Fur, Feathers, and Fights
by Greenwoodswierdo
Summary: OCs, Canons. Goodbeasts, vermin. Birds. Want more? Read.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Those of you who thought my first Redwall fic was a flop, I agree. Those who liked it, (Who are probably very few) you have Much Ado About Nonny to thank for it being deleted. Hopefully this is a lot better. Read on!_

It was high summer. A curious looking otter strode through Mossflower country. He was lithe, but his coat was olive green in some places, and light brown in others. He carried a simple oaken staff. A young Guosim shrew accompanied him.

"Well, Urbai, it's been a few seasons since I left my home. I just hope I get to Redwall in time."

"Aye, Earthcoat. Papa's been wanting to take me to Redwall, but Log-a-Log's been saying I'm far too young. As soon as you came along, Papa knew it was my chance, though I'd hate to be him when ol' Big Club sees that I'm gone."

"Look, there it is! Redwall!" Both travelers broke into a brisk trot. They soon stood at the main gate, looking up at the immense walls. Earthcoat shouted, "Ahoy! Is there anybeast up there?"

Another otter, accompanied by two mice and a squirrel, called back: "State yore business, mates. Why are ye here?"

Earthcoat called back, "I have come to find Martin, son of Luke. There is trouble in the northlands. I am Earthcoat, son of Keyla and Tullgrew Wildlough!"

Martin smiled. "I am Martin, though I never suspected Keyla and Tullgrew loved each other. Come in, Earthcoat, and tell us what's happened."

Earthcoat, along with his companion Urbai, were ushered into the gatehouse. Martin, Gonff, Columbine, Germaine, and Bella sat. Earthcoat began his tale. " From the west there was a great migration of birds. There was a golden eagle, followed by legions of sparrow hawks and ospreys. At first we of Noonvale thought nothing of it. Then two of our mice were carried off, not ever seen again. Soon after that one of my best friends, Yerma, was taken. I can only hope she is still alive. Martin, will you help us? Brome himself sent me to find you!"

"Martin, who is Brome? And who are Keyla and Tullgrew anyway?" Germaine asked. "I think it's time we hear the true story about Martin's past."

"I agree, old friend." Bella replied.

Martin sighed. "Very well." He proceeded to tell them of his experiences at Marshank, his history at Noonvale, and how he came to meet Rose. Gonff was amused at Martin's antics with Rose. They reminded him of when he met his future wife Columbine. Then he heard how Rose died. His heart went out to his friend.

"Matey, why didn't you tell me?"

"I promised I would never tell."

Earthcoat sniffed. He knew the story by heart, but every time he heard it, it made him cry. "Martin, will you help us?"

Martin laughed. Somehow the telling of the story made him feel better. "Of course!"

Gonff snorted. "Hey, what about me?"

Earthcoat smiled. "You too, mate."

Skipper and Lady Amber persuaded Martin to take them along as well. Trubbs and Co. were to come along as well. Columbine would not let Gonff off on another adventure without taking her, so she was going too.

Abbess Germaine would not let anyone leave without a good meal. Earthcoat had never tasted anything like it, not even in Noonvale. Martin kept to himself, and Gonff was found guilty of stealing five apples from the kitchens.

The next day found eightscore creatures leaving Redwall. Martin waved goodbye to all his friends. Then he turned and walked side by side with Earthcoat. Martin was in his regular habit, but he had his full regalia packed for battle. Martin was curious. "How long have your parents been married?"

Earthcoat thought for a bit. "Oh, fourteen or fifteen seasons. I'm about 14 seasons old, though, so I guess it's been fifteen."

"They must have wedded two or three seasons after I left." Martin concluded. "I wish I could have been there, but there was a weasel who had grandiose plans, so I _had to stop him. I wasn't in Noonvale anyway, though, so I wouldn't have known." Martin looked at Earthcoat's staff. "What is the purpose of this staff?"_

"_It is my weapon. I am skilled with it. And besides, mum won't let me try any weapon that has anything sharp."_

_Martin laughed. "The Tullgrew I knew wasn't like that. She would have done anything to get her paws on anything sharp. Then again…" Martin thought out loud, "she was also a slave."_

"_My mother told me often of the days in Marshank. She said that when you had escaped she gained hope. She lost it after a while, and the only one who could comfort her was my dad. She said she often asked him to sit on her bed to keep her company. Dad told me that often he would wake up under the covers with her." He chuckled. "He never got mad. He was curious at why she did it, though. Not that she ever told him."_

_Martin chuckled too. He already liked the young otter. He was wondering, though, exactly how Noonvale would accept him after what had happened._


	2. Chapter 2

An osprey flew into the cliff where fortress Marshank used to stand. He winged his way through the twists and turns of tunnels, until he came to a large room. He flapped up to a balcony, landed, and bowed low. There before him stood Aquila, the golden eagle, and overlord of the Jurgan flock.

"Kreeaar! What news do you bring?"

Irontalon, who was the leader of the ospreys, responded. "There is little resistance from the Dofosabets, though we have lost many valiant ospreys to the tall ones."

"This news is old. Take Sparrowhawks from Piter's legions if you wish. We must take more tall ones. They must be used as bargaining chips."

"I live to obey, mighty Aquila." Irontalon flew off to follow his newest orders.

Aquila surveyed his domain. It was a huge cavern, carved out through centuries of erosion by water. There was a small stream that flowed through it. Birds milled everywhere, but vermin of every kind dwelled there as well. They were the main army, about tenscore altogether, taken from bands who lived in the surrounding area.

Down in the cells, a young ottermaid sat, wishing she could see her friends again. And one in particular…

* * *

Three days had passed. Martin and his friends had made camp for the night. The otters had made shrimp'n'hotroot soup, which they enjoyed immensely. Earthcoat made a point of saying that though his mother's friend Marigold made the best hotroot soup in the northlands, it was obviously not the best in the entire world. Martin looked around in amazement. The land had changed a lot in the time it had been since he passed through. He wished he could be going up to see if his father ever returned, but that would wait. Rose's home was in trouble, and he didn't want to let them down. Not again.

Gonff chuckled. He had spent some time getting to know Urbai, and he had decided to teach him in the ways of, as he put it, 'honest thieving.' The shrew had been very talented with the art of lock-picking, and the art of invisibility. Urbai could not be seen unless he wanted to be. He could not be heard even if he wanted to. Gonff was proud of his student. Soon Urbai would learn the art of pickpocketing, and his training would be complete.

Earthcoat smiled. He could not remember a time when he was happier. Then he remembered Yerma, and how she had been cruelly taken from her family and friends. He scowled. He would do anything to get her back. Nothing would stop him. Not even death.

He reached down into his pocket to retrieve a painting of his parents. It was gone! He searched frantically around for it, but to no avail. Then he saw the form of Urbai in the darkness, shaking with mirth. He acted like he hadn't seen Urbai, but stared off in the distance. Then he struck. Darting from where he sat, he knocked Urbai to the ground. Searching the shrew's pockets, he found his picture. He grinned evilly. "Let's see how well you can pickpocket when you're dripping wet!" He dragged the protesting shrew to a pond. It was the pond where they got their fresh drinking water. Hoisting Urbai over his head, he tossed the Guosim into the water. Earthcoat laughed long and loud. Urbai was grumbling, but soon he too was dissolved in a bout of helpless laughter.

* * *

There was much hustle and bustle in Redwall. The Mossflower patrol had seen a large gang of vermin heading towards Redwall, and had warned the abbeybeasts. Germaine had sent the fastest runner hares to Salamandastron to seek reinforcements. However, before they could arrive, the vermin appeared.

They were a motley crew. Mostly foxes, but the leader was a barbaric sight. She was an ermine, all white, but her face was painted blood red. She carried a huge wooden club, with flint knobs surrounding the tip. Her tail was like a rat's, but had white tufts of fur in random places. Her name was Stela, and she was almost purely insane. The only reason she had come to Mossflower was Redwall. She wanted it, and whatever she wanted, she usually got.

Germaine looked out over the sea of vermin. They couldn't have come at a worse time. With Martin, Skipper, and Lady amber gone, they were virtually defenseless. Only a score of hares were there to defend them. She felt hopeless. Suddenly, the world faded away. There stood a mouse, older than Martin, but every inch a warrior. He spoke, every word sticking itself into Germaine's memory.

_When winter snow is coming, blowing in the breeze,_

_There comes a ready warrior, carrying ale, bread, and cheese._

_Then blood-red snow will fall, and warriors come home,_

_Along will come a young'n, his name is known as Brome._

_Warrior comes home, who lost his heart's desire,_

_And yet there is a passion here, kindled by a fire._

_His heart's desire, true to him, throughout all his days,_

_Approaches home now, at his side, faithful in all ways._

Germaine came out of the vision. She remembered none of it, though it remained locked in her mind.

* * *

The ottermaid sat up straight. She had an idea! A cloaked guard came by every hour to check up on her. If she could just figure out how to get out of the cell, then she could take out the guard, or get the guard to show her around. She decided on the latter because she didn't have her weapon. But how to get out? That was the trouble.

Earthcoat was in a good mood. He had gotten back at Urbai for taking his painting, and had gotten a good rest. He and the rest of the eightscore militants marched on. Earthcoat saw familiar signs and landmarks that he had passed on his way south. Martin came up and walked beside him. "So, Earthcoat, how is Brome doing these days?"

Earthcoat answered reverently, "He is the leader of Noonvale now. Urran Voh and Aryah passed on to Dark Forest's gate seasons ago. I hardly remember it, I was so young. Mum told me that they died on the same day! There was a huge burial ceremony for them, and Brome's 'coronation'. There wasn't a beast that didn't gain weight!"

Martin laughed. "That must have been some feast!"

Earthcoat nodded. "Aye, it was!"


End file.
